Multiplication
by Kilrez
Summary: Fiona is really bad at breaking big news. Michael thinks there is no way he would rather hear it though. And this is going to be one experience that a lifetime as a spy really didn't prepare him for.
1. Chapter 1

**Multiplication**

Because there is _nowhere near_ enough Burn Notice fanfic around to satisfy cravings, I was forced to go forth and write some. It was a great burden.

This story came from the contemplation of what exactly it would take to really shock Michael Western. It proceeded to take on a life of its own.

* * *

'You're _what_?' asked Michael, looking dumbfounded.

Fiona calmly repeated herself.

Michael blinked twice. 'But how?'

'The usual way, Michael. I believe you were there at the time.' She seemed far too composed under the circumstances.

'I thought you were on birth control.' Michael's thoughts were whirling. The implications were just too much to consider.

'I was,' Fiona informed him dryly. 'The pharmacy screwed up.'

Michael sat down rather heavily on the stool behind him and stared blankly at her for several seconds. Fi returned the stare coolly.

'Um,' he said after a moment. 'So, are you gonna… what are you going to do?'

'I'm keeping it,' she told him curtly.

Michael drew his eyes back up to her face. His thoughts had wondered for a second and his eyes had gone straight to her innocuously flat belly. 'You are?' he tried to keep the surprise out of his voice, but obviously failed when she narrowed her eyes at him.

'Yes. I am.' With a small 'hmpf' she turned on her heel and flounced out of the still open door. Michael blinked twice. He knew he should follow her, talk to her, but… Revelations like that needed a little time to sink in.

**oo00OO00oo**

'Fi, are you sure you should be carrying that?' Michael followed her carefully, wary lest she whip around and slap him.

'It's a rifle,' Fiona told him in exasperation. 'It's not that heavy. Women don't become instantly useless when they fall pregnant Michael.'

'I know, I know! It's just…' Michael tried to think of a safe way to phrase the words, then gave up and settled for trailing after her in silence. What could he say? That he was uneasy with her doing dangerous stuff like this now? That he'd rather she stayed at home? She'd either punch him, or point out the risk of this mission without backup. He didn't have an answer for either.

When they made it back to the loft five hours later, they both reeked of smoke and there was a trickle of blood tracking down Fiona's forehead.

'Sit,' ordered Michael, pointing to the bed.

Fi rolled her eyes but did at she was told. 'You worry too much,' she informed him wryly.

'Better than not enough,' returned Michael as he retrieved the first-aid kit from under the kitchen sink. He sat on the bed next to her and carefully drew back her hair to reveal the small cut on her scalp.

'Will I live?' asked Fi dryly.

Michael didn't bother to respond to the baiting, concentrating instead on swabbing the wound clean and putting a steri-strip across it. When he was done he sat looking into her eyes, heart palpitating uncomfortably. 'Fi… do you think maybe, for me, that you could ease off on the thrill seeking til this baby's born? I know we're not together, but it's my baby too...'

Fi met his eyes in silence for a long moment before answering, so he could tell she was seriously thinking about his request. 'I'll do my best,' she promised him.

**oo00OO00oo**

'Hey Mikey, wait til you see what I got on-' Sam's loud opening was cut abruptly short as he entered the loft and saw Michael's shushing gestures. He raised an eyebrow questioningly until he caught sight of Fiona, who was napping on Michael's bed.

'She claims pregnancy is exhausting,' Michael explained softly. He was sitting at the bench, working on jury-rigging a mobile phone into a bug.

Sam blinked twice, amusement evident on his face. 'Whatever you say, Mikey,' he agreed in a quieter voice, heading towards the fridge to help himself to a beer. 'You told your mother she's going to be a grandma?'

'I think she knew before I did,' Michael informed him ruefully. 'Don't ask me how, but she certainly wasn't surprised when I told her.'

'Bet she's over the moon, huh?'

Michael nodded and bent his head to his project, declining to comment any further on the issue. His mom had made no secret of the fact she wanted him to have a family. She was almost crowing with happiness about it.

Fiona was nearly two months pregnant now, although it had yet to show. In truth, she was doing more than just napping at Michael's place. In one of those spontaneous decisions of hers, she had declared that she couldn't sleep at her place and so was moving in. Bemused, Michael had just shrugged and stocked up on yoghurt. In truth, he quite liked sharing his bed with Fiona. She was incongruously cuddly when she slept and there was something very pleasant about waking up with a warm body draped across him. That was, until the morning sickness started.

Michael groggily blinked awake when Fiona detangled herself and slipped out of bed. He raised his head to watch her dash across the loft and into the bathroom. Shortly afterwards came the audible evidences of illness so he heaved himself up and followed her.

Fiona was hunched over the toilet bowl, retching. Michael sighed and knelt down next to her so he could sweep her hair out of the way. 'This is all your fault you know,' she informed him curtly between heaves.

'I know,' he agreed placatingly, rubbing soothing circles on her back. He cooked her breakfast to make up for it, and drove her to her first doctor's appointment.

**oo00OO00oo**

Michael was panting as he staggered awkwardly up the steps, Fiona carried across his chest. She was five months pregnant now, and not exactly light. They made it to the top of the bridge without incident and he lowered her to the ground so he could pull his gun and turn on their pursuers.

'Such a gentleman,' she taunted him softly, standing on one foot and leaning on the bridge railing. Her sprained ankle had necessitated the carrying.

'Shh, Fi,' Michael hissed, not looking back at her. He was waiting for the first guy to poke his head around the corner and give him a target. Fi rolled her eyes and wished she'd managed to hold onto her gun.

'You know, Michael, you've been awfully protective since this whole thing started.'

Michael's shoulders froze for a moment, before he transferred his attention back to the top of the stairs. 'Just keeping you safe,' he muttered.

'Me and junior,' she corrected.

'Can we talk about this later, Fi?' Michael asked tersely.

'Oh we will,' she agreed.

Later came when he was wrapping her swollen ankle on the bed in the loft. She cocked her head on one side and fixed him with that _look_ that he knew meant trouble.

'What is it?' he asked wearily.

'I just never had you pegged as the fatherly type, Michael.'

'Who said I was?'

'All this guarding and carrying? I'm starting to think that maybe you want this baby as much as I do.' She said it lightly but she was watching him closely for his reaction.

Typically, Michael's face was absolutely unreadable, but he answered her as truthfully as he could. 'I never said I didn't, Fi. I didn't have the greatest role-model for a dad but I realised when you told me you were pregnant that having kids… it might not be so bad. Even if we're not doing it in the usual way.'

'The usual way?' repeated Fiona.

Michael sighed. He really wasn't good with relationship talks. 'Having a baby when we're not even together,' he clarified.

Fiona gave an enigmatic smile then flopped back on the bed and clicked her fingers. 'Bring some ice,' she demanded. The talk was clearly over. Michael snorted softly in bemusement and rose to do her bidding.

TBC

* * *

One more chapter. Also a sequel in production that may or may not be posted depending on how shy I get about it. (Sometimes my mind yells at me for having the audacity to put this stuff where people can see it). Uh... do people like it?


	2. Chapter 2

**Multiplication- Chapter Two**

**Isabelle:** I try not to listen to my mind if I can possibly avoid it. Thanks for your review. You're right- reviews _do_ make posting fun.

**tsw: **glad to hear it.

**MissLizzymizz**y: The way you signed your review made me kinda do a stupid face for a while. Thank you.

**Lauren:** cheers!

Thanks to all ye who reviewed. Made me less nervous about the whole business. It seems the posting of fanfiction was a thing only easy when I was young and stupid.

* * *

'So Fi figured out you're actually pretty keen on this baby business huh?' Sam seemed amused as he handed Michael the binoculars.

'Mmhmm,' confirmed Michael, peering at the building. 'They got building security?'

'Sure do. Two patrols, changing shifts on an alternating schedule. Closed circuit cameras, the whole shebang. You're gonna need a legit reason for getting in there if you wanna have a look around.'

Michael groaned. 'This was meant to be a quick job. I gotta take Fi to the hospital later.'

'It's a narrow window. This is your last chance to figure out some of the people Carla might be working with, Mike,' Sam warned him.

Michael sighed heavily. 'I know Sam.' He thought for a long moment, considering his options. 'We'll have to try again later and hope we can catch wind of another break like this one.'

Sam nodded in acceptance but Michael could see in his eyes that he didn't think it was likely. Hell, Michael knew it wasn't. Still. It didn't matter. They were finding out the sex of the baby today. He wasn't going to let the burn notice take that from him.

Fi was just coming down the stairs as he got back to the loft, having dropped Sam back at his apartment. Michael got out of the car and quickly moved to help her down the last few steps.

'Weren't you investigating a lead on Carla?' she asked, accepting the help without comment.

'Yup. Come to drive you to your appointment though. They say pregnant women shouldn't be jacking cars past their first trimester.'

Fiona smiled a radiant smile. Standing on tip-toe, she placed a quick kiss on his lips. By the time Michael had recovered from his surprise, she was already getting in the car. He shrugged it off and went to do the same.

**oo00OO00oo**

'Michael, we hear your girlfriend's pregnant. This is wonderful news!'

Michael's eyes narrowed at the familiar voice on the phone. Fi's flowing sun dresses largely hid the pregnancy when she was out and about, but Carla must have finally caught on. He found he really didn't like the rush of protective anger that flowed through him at the mere mention of Fi by Carla. 'It's none of your business,' was all he said though, voice brisk and controlled.

'Of course, of course,' came the light reply. 'Let's hope there's no need for that to change.'

Michael gave a tight smile, certain that she could see him even in this crowded shopping centre. 'Careful,' was all he said. 'You don't even want to think about going there. Really. If you want a preview of what would happen, look up Quatz-ksier. It was a village in Afghanistan. The leader made some threats I didn't like.' He hung up on her. If she really wanted his cooperation, she'd ring back.

That evening, Fi picked up on his jumpiness. 'What's eating at you?' she asked as he cut himself for the second time chopping carrots for dinner.

Michael stopped swearing and ran his finger under the tap. 'Nothing,' he muttered, not meeting her eyes.

'Don't lie to me Michael. I can read you like a book.'

Michael couldn't help a small smile at that before growing serious again. 'Carla's found out about the baby,' he told her.

Fiona shrugged, unconcerned. 'She was going to eventually. It's not a problem.'

'How so?' retorted Michael dubiously.

'Well, if she sends someone after me to threaten you, I'll just shoot them.'

Michael raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

'Or…' sighed Fiona, 'hide quietly somewhere they can't find me and avoid overexerting myself.' She really hadn't taken well to all the restrictions pregnancy placed on her.

Michael felt much better after that. Lingering worries still plagued him, but he was better able to remind himself that Fi could look after herself. Carla seemed to get the message too, and didn't mention Fi again.

After the six month point, Fi grew rapidly.

'I look like a whale,' she moaned, waddling towards the fridge to get yoghurt.

Michael looked wide-eyed at Sam, who held up his hands as if to say _leave me out of this._ Michael tried for the truth. 'You look beautiful,' he told her. It _was_ true, to his mind. Pregnancy lent her a softness that was endearing.

Fi glared at him, unconvinced. 'Don't lie just to make me feel better,' she snapped.

'Man, that is going to be one dangerous baby,' chuckled Sam. He regretted it a moment later as they both turned to glare at him. 'Hey, just saying is all!' he defended himself.

'If pregnancy hormones make me shoot you, I won't be held responsible,' Fiona warned him.

'Duly noted,' agreed Sam, backing away defensively.

**oo00OO00oo**

It was a long and convoluted series of circumstances that led to them hiding out from gangsters in an abandoned warehouse. It had been several hours but they couldn't budge until the police finally made their move and cleaned out the dock area. As it was, Michael had to just cross his fingers that no one would stumble across their hiding place before then.

He climbed back down from his perch on top of a pile of crates, right up by the ceiling. It gave a good view of the door and the only window- early warning should someone decide to search this warehouse. If that happened, they'd hollowed out a hiding place inside one of the storage crates.

Fiona was resting on the small palate of blankets he'd scraped together. He scrambled down to sit beside her and let out a silent sigh. 'The watch walks past every 10 minutes or so. There's no way we're getting out of here without getting seen.'

'We might if I could move faster than a waddle,' muttered Fiona. Her voice sounded strained and Michael looked at her sharply. 'How long?' he asked.

'Been having contractions for a couple of hours. They're starting to speed up.'

'Oh no. Not now. Not here,' he started anxiously.

'Don't exactly have a choice here, Michael,' she replied.

Michael grit his teeth and glanced towards the door. She was right. They were well-and-truly pinned down. 'Damn damn damn. Uh…OK. Breathe- remember to breathe.'

The look she gave him would have blistered paint off a wall. Michael grimaced and decided this might go better if he didn't try to give advice. He thanked his lucky stars that he'd read up on birthing techniques. It was a spy habit that had stood him in good stead to know what he was getting in to- he just hadn't expected to actually need the information.

'Are you comfortable?' he asked, stroking her hair back from her forehead.

'Well I'm about to give birth to our son in a warehouse on the Miami docks. What do you think?' she snapped. A moment later she squeezed her eyes tight shut. Michael could actually see the contraction ripple across her distended abdomen. He fought down the panic and tried to remember what he'd read.

It was another 45 minutes before the baby began to crown. Michael held her hand and whispered soothing words to her. Fiona was drenched in sweat, hair sticking to her forehead as she panted and strained. She was squeezing his hand tight enough that the bones were starting to grind together, but she didn't cry out. Any noise and they'd have the mob on top of them.

It seemed to take forever. In a final heaving effort Michael was holding a newborn, wrapped in his jacket and blinking up at him.

'He's not crying. Why isn't he crying?' moaned Fiona, lolling back against the blankets.

'It's OK, he's fine. You did it,' Michael told her, looking down in wonder at the life he was holding. He did his best to wipe the infant down and shuffled up to sit next to the new mother. 'See? Here he is.'

Fiona's eyes lit up through the exhaustion and she reached out a trembling hand to stroke a gentle finger across her son's cheek. 'He's beautiful,' she breathed.

'He is,' agreed Michael. Cradling his son against his chest with one arm, he helped Fiona to sit up against the crates behind her and handed her the baby.

'The police are never going to believe this,' he muttered, looking at the scene before him. Fiona was speaking softly to the baby in her arms, her hair still stuck in strands to her face by drying sweat. Michael quickly clambered to the top of the pile of crates and checked the entrance. He was fairly certain he kill anyone that tried to hurt either of the people just below him.

When he climbed back down, Fiona had slipped the shoulder off her dress and was giving their son his first drink. 'He needs a name,' she told him, watching the baby nurse.

Michael raised his eyebrows. They'd discussed a few but hadn't been able to decide on any. 'Born in a warehouse hiding from gangsters. He's setting up to have an interesting life.'

Fiona smiled tiredly. 'I hope so. Wouldn't want our son to be boring.'

'With your genes? I don't think there's any risk of that.'

'Theo,' said Fiona suddenly.

'Theo?' repeated Michael, trying out the sound of the word. 'Theo,' he confirmed. He reached out a hand and stroked he son's head. 'Welcome to the world kiddo.'

_fin_

* * *

Thought I'd best end in there. There's half a sequel, but it's lacking in inspiration. It's more to do with how baby's parents decide they may actually kinda like each other.


End file.
